I had a hands-on dad. He was always there when I needed him. He never talked down to me. He treated me with respect. I never doubted his love for me. Paul Harvey once said, speaking of my dad's singing of the National Anthem, "He approached that high f with the splendid assurance of a big man's gentle caress." That's how he approached everything that involved his children - with splendid assurance and a gentle caress. As a hands-on dad, he never laid his hands on me in anger or punishment. He didn't need to. Knowing that I would hurt or disappoint him was enough to keep me out of a lot of mischief as a kid. His hands-on parenting included a hand up whenever I needed it; a hand-pat on my back whenever I deserved it (and a lot of times when I didn't); and a hand around my shoulders as a token of the friendship and regard he had for me. Dad gave hugs freely, to his son as well as his daughters. Nothing felt safer than Daddy's embrace. The greatest gifts he gave me came when he placed his hands on my head in a priesthood blessing of healing, comfort, and guidance. . . . James E Faust once said, "Noble fatherhood gives us a glimpse of the divine attributes of our Father in Heaven." I think that is why I have never had trouble seeing God as a kind and loving parent. I had such a great role model here on earth. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.